


Boredom

by ohmywhy



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Kurt, married klaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:37:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3933616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmywhy/pseuds/ohmywhy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anon prompted: could you write older!blaine and mpreg!kurt? </p>
<p>The doctor puts Kurt on bed rest, and Kurt's bored out of his mind. But he desperately wants to leave his house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boredom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mikaoru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikaoru/gifts).



At six months, the doctor requests Kurt be put on bed rest.

Kurt remains silent the moment Dr. Myles suggests ‘relaxing.’ He suspects he will be borderline losing his mind with nothing to do. But he purses his lips, narrows his eyes, and nods in response. He quietly consents, “Mhm.”

Blaine, on the other hand, overly concerned husband and father-to-be, mops up everything the doctor orders.

“No strenuous activity,” Dr. Myles demands.

Blaine places his hands on Kurt’s shoulders. “Absolutely not.”

“Kurt must relax until the baby is born. As he is a carrier, he’s in a fragile state, and we cannot risk any danger to the baby.”

Blaine smiles. Lucky bastard isn’t confined to the bed for the next three months. “I will make sure he stays in bed all day.”

“Great. Well, everything else looks fine. I’ll see you back here in two weeks.”

“Excellent. Thanks, Dr. Myles.”

Kurt speaks only after the doctor has left the room. “Bed rest,” he says suddenly. Disapprovingly.

“Yes, bed rest, baby,” Blaine replies lovingly, kissing his cheek. “It’ll be fun. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Sure,” Kurt responds unbelievingly.

Three weeks in, as suspected, Kurt is bored. Truly and inexplicably bored. Bored out of his mind. His brain hurts with how unbelievably dull he finds everything. He wants out. He needs out. His walls have become blank beige barriers encaging him. His bed swallows him whole. If he watches one more Friends re-run, he will cry.

Nothing at home holds his attention anymore.

See, passing the time away, laying in bed, flipping channels, skimming magazines, and reading books should be fun. But it no longer cuts it for Kurt. Nothing interesting ever plays on television. Either that, or by this point, he’s already watched the interesting shows. Reading sends him to sleep lately. Two sentences, and he’s out like a light. And he can stare at a computer for only so many hours before his eyes and his head hurt. Plus, going through vogue.com isn’t particularly helpful. He misses fashion. And the office. And the people. Oh, people.

So, he’s continually bored in his home, sighing profusely at how little he can stand it. He’s a productive guy; he needs busy work. He needs his job and his grad school courses and homework and a reason to pass out at the end of the day feeling as though he’s merited sleep. With two more months to go, he’s very well considering inducing an early birth just to have something to do, an excuse to leave the house.

Kurt doesn’t feel like he’s helping the baby. In fact, his little girl kicks enthusiastically every once in a while.

No, Kurt feels useless. He feels as though he’s on house arrest with nothing to do. Nada.

In his and Blaine’s enormous home, he constantly feels lonely.  

To pass the time, he draws. He draws elaborate, beautiful, intricate designs that he desperately wishes he could see through to fruition. Men’s suits, trousers, shirts, scarves. Little girl’s pastel-colored dresses and outfits. He obviously misses his days at Vogue, and sometimes, he daydreams of stopping by the office to say hello.

With Blaine there nonetheless, he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Blaine calls every day at noon to check up on him. “How’s your day?” he asks tenderly over the phone, and Kurt can always hear the usual sounds of a busy office. Frankly, he’s a little jealous.

On this particular day, Kurt’s honest. “Good. Bored out of my mind.” he responds. He runs one hand gently over his stomach, his other hand holding a freshly drawn design. A yellow sundress for his gorgeous girl.

Blaine tsks over the phone, sympathetic.

“Nothing good on TV?” Blaine asks.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Kurt replies.

Blaine types quickly on the other end. Busy, busy, busy. Kurt imagines him staring at his computer in his finely pressed suit, curly hair neatly styled, looking ever so sexy with his beard carefully trimmed and his glasses perched on his nose.

“I’m drawing again,” Kurt says happily. “I don’t think I’ve drawn anything since I found out I was pregnant.”

“That’s great. Anything special?”

“A dress. For the baby.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

Kurt sighs, and Blaine hums in question.

“I miss being busy,” Kurt says.

“Why don’t we trade places then?” Blaine chuckles.

“Please.”

“You deserve to relax, baby. Make the most of it. It’ll be over soon.”

“Speaking of over, I think I’m _over_ -relaxed.”

Blaine laughs. “I have to go. I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Kurt clicks end on the call. He stares at his bright, yellow design. He looks back at his phone and briefly thinks _what would Blaine say_? Before he answers his own question however, he throws the phone on the night table and makes a rash decision. He jumps out of bed.

He wants busy fingers. He wants to _make_ the damn dress. He wants to work hard on it and see it come to life. He’s tired of loneliness and re-runs and boredom. Plus, he feels fine. He’s been in bed for three weeks. How much more resting does he need?

Truth is, he knows he’s risking it, but he swears he’ll be back home promptly.

His mission in of itself goes off without a hitch. Kurt shops for fabrics excitedly, taking his time carefully selecting his favorites, picking through assorted colors, and savoring his time outside home. He touches each and every fabric, and he’s more meticulous in selection than he’s ever been before. Deep down, he knows it’s because he only wants to be out of his house longer. But he buries the knowledge. Pretends he needs more time.

When he finally purchases his items, he silently cheers in his head, making note to brag to Blaine about his venture. Fragile? Fragile, his ass. He can easily grow a baby inside him and still be an entirely productive member of society.

“See, baby?” He rubs his belly softly as he exits the store. “And nobody thought we could do it.”

Kurt giddily returns to the train station and mounts the five back home. Given the busy time of day however, the train is heavily packed. Rude as they are, no passenger moves to lend Kurt a seat. Although he’s clearly pregnant and carrying heavy fabrics, Kurt squeezes between the crowd, stands in the middle of the train, and grips the overhead metal pole for balance.

It’s all right, he tells himself. After all, it’s not as if he’s incapable of standing for a few minutes. Before his pregnancy, and before Blaine and his luxury cars, Kurt often stood in this very train for long.

He cannot breathe, though. The air around him is hot with exhaled breaths, and there lies little space between him and the people beside him. Kurt intakes a loud breath. People stare. He grips his shopping bag a little harder, pulling it closer to his body.

Ten minutes later, Kurt still feels short of breath. Standing leaves him feeling dizzy and lightheaded, and he desperately attempts to control this odd, awful feeling inside him, this uncomfortable feeling that clouds his vision and buckles his knees. He feels as though he might fall right then and there. He’s suddenly fatigued, and his vision blurs further, and he’s ten minutes away from home, and he’s not entirely sure he can make it all the way. He should beg for a seat on the train, but he’s standing between a crowd of people, and he doesn’t know that he can even make it to an empty seat.

Above him, the automated voice announces, “This is 110th street. The next stop is 103rd street.” He knows it’s the wrong stop, but he runs out. Behind him, he hears, “Stand clear of the closing doors, please,” and he falls into a bench, breathing heavily. He feels himself fading.

Kurt retrieves his phone from his pocket and calls Blaine, but Blaine never answers, busy as he is with work. Kurt then calls Rachel, and he’s only just done telling her his story and his current location when his cloudiness takes over.  

When he opens his eyes again, he’s right back in his bed. Tucked in. In comfortable clothing. He’s not entirely sure he even left the bed to begin with.

Except he hears the front door slam shut. He hears his husband. He hears desperation. He hears Rachel respond, “He’s in the bedroom.”

Blaine’s voice thunders down the hall. “Kurt!” he yells, and there’s an evident fear in his voice. His loud and rapid footsteps indicate he’s running, and Kurt stands to meet him in the hall. But the sudden move leaves him lightheaded. He cups his forehead and retakes his seat on the edge of his bed.

“Kurt!” Blaine calls, his voice edging closer. He hastily opens the bedroom door, and Kurt looks up to see his frantic, worried husband approaching him rapidly, tight worried lines across his forehead.

“Oh Kurt, baby…” Blaine coos. He sits beside Kurt, wraps his arms around him gently, and hugs him delicately. Kurt runs his hands smoothly down Blaine’s back, his husband’s body shaking lightly beneath his hands.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks, pulling away from Kurt’s neck to press featherlight kisses against his cheek and jaw. Kurt nods quietly, and Blaine takes the initiative to press a warm hand on Kurt’s belly.

“Thank God you’re okay,” Blaine breathes, worry exuding from his voice. Kurt’s quiet, but he smiles gingerly in response. Blaine feels safe to smile too, fear silently creeping out of his chest. His hands find Kurt’s left hand, and he holds it lovingly in both hands, kissing Kurt’s knuckles softly.

“Rachel says you called me,” Blaine says, and he gulps audibly.

“I did,” Kurt responds, lacing his fingers through Blaine’s. He quietly observes Blaine. His bowtie is uncharacteristically askew. His hair, mussed. He looks as though he ran home from the office.

“So, low blood pressure, huh?” Blaine asks flippantly. Although his tone is nonchalant and dainty, like he’s still convincing himself that everything’s all right, his voice quietly breaks. Blaine’s eyes also flicker down to their joint hands. Kurt suspects Blaine’s emotions are clipped, hidden and bubbling beneath his surface.

“Yes, nothing to worry about,” Kurt answers. With his free hand, he lifts Blaine’s chin, forcing Blaine to glance at him.

Blaine hesitantly looks up. His eyes are suddenly wet, and their usual bright, sunny energy, nowhere to be seen. Kurt scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. Blaine releases Kurt’s hand, instead wrapping his arms around Kurt’s torso and burying his face in his husband’s chest.

“Blaine…?”

Blaine’s voice runs deep with emotion. “I was so worried about you,” he confesses, and he’s suddenly crying— _sobbing_ —and tightening his hold on Kurt.

“What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know… I wasn’t… I was just bored…”

“Do you know what it’s like to be in the office and be worried about you every day? I’m so scared. Kurt, I’m _scared_. I can’t lose you and our baby.”

Kurt runs his hand soothingly down Blaine’s back. “You won’t lose us. I promise I won’t leave this bed until the day she’s ready to be born.”

Blaine breathes in Kurt for a while. Kurt’s heart twinges knowing he worried his husband like this.     

Finally, Blaine slowly pulls away from Kurt’s chest. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I know you don’t like to be on bed rest. I know you want to be able to _do_ something, but.” Blaine moves his hand to Kurt’s face and holds Kurt’s cheek softly. “You _are_ doing something, okay? You are keeping me sane, and you are keeping her safe.”

“I know.” Kurt holds back tears. He tries hard not to think about his regret had something happened to the baby. He pushes away the image of him and Blaine suffering the loss of a miscarriage.

“I wish I could stay at home with you,” Blaine says, “and make it a little better for you but you know I can’t. I am and always will be so grateful that you are carrying our baby and that you’re putting up with all of this for her.” Kurt nods and absentmindedly moves his hand to his stomach. Blaine follows suit.

Blaine momentarily leans down and presses a hard kiss to Kurt’s belly. “I love both of you so much,” Blaine says. “You don’t even know.”

“I do know,” Kurt responds quickly before leaning forward and pressing a hard kiss against Blaine’s lips. 

Kurt doesn’t leave his bed for the next two and a half months. He’s still bored out of his mind (although he does still have those fabrics), but he knows, in the end, the boredom is worth it. In the end, his boredom brings him Sophie. And with Blaine and Sophie, he’s never bored again.   

**Author's Note:**

> Mikaoru prompted: kurt is 6m preg and he's antsy because he's not working or studying so he gets to make some clothes and he wakes up one morning and goes to buy some fabrics and on the way back home he takes the train and it's full of ppl so he can't take a seat and has to get off a few stops before his bc his blood pressure was going down and he felt like shit, he calls blaine who's at work and then rachel who picks him up and gets him home and stays with him until blaine comes back and b is all worriedand wow


End file.
